ARIA'S POV
The taxi ride to Mount Sinai Hospital felt endless. Aria sat in the back seat, her hands trembling in her lap, staring out the window without seeing anything.
Patient moved to ICU. Condition critical. Family should come immediately.
The text from the hospital had been clinical, professional, but Aria knew what it really meant: Come say goodbye.
Her phone buzzed again. Marcus.
Just visited your mom. She's asking for you. Aria, it's bad. Really bad.
She typed back with shaking fingers: I'm on my way.
The guilt was suffocating. While she'd been hiking with Damien, while she'd been standing in that greenhouse staring at the plants that could save her mother's life, while she'd been falling deeper in love with a man she was planning to betray. her mother had been dying alone in a hospital bed.
What kind of daughter was she?
